Tis the Season to be Merry
by DarthGabithaTheHutt
Summary: With his family scattered, Dean finds a new way to embrace the holiday spirit. Preseries, no pairings. Oneshot.


Summary: With his family scattered, Dean finds a new way to embrace the holiday spirit. Pre-series, no pairing.

Another crazy story involving Dean and Sara. Is anyone surprised? Sara Lucian is a character from several of my other Supernatural stories (which are listed in my profile for anyone who's interested). Reading those stories probably isn't strictly necessary, but might help. Sara is a friend (and nothing more) of Dean's who is also a young Hunter. She specialises in exorcisms and was trained by her mother, just as Dean was trained by John.

xxx  
24th December 2002,  
Wisconsin,

Dean shovelled another load of earth out of the grave. "This bites."

"You still moaning?" Sara Lucian replied, setting her own spade aside for a moment to stretch out her back. "Since when do you dislike a standard salt and burn?"

"Since it's Christmas Eve! The ghost won't even show up again till Monday, for crying out loud."

"Yeah, but tomorrow we're going back to Black Earth, remember? Will promised us a real Christmas dinner. It makes more sense to get this done now."

He pulled himself out of the half-dug grave and sat on the edge. "Well, I'm taking a break. There's nothing out here."

Sara joined him. "Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."

"You what?"

"_'Twas The Night Before Christmas? _The poem?" She shook her head. "Come on, man, even I know that one."

Dean shrugged. "Must be an English thing."

"And the pointless desire to drop everything for what is basically just another day of the calendar must be an American thing."

"Ouch. Sounds like someone didn't get the teddy-bear they wanted under the tree." He fished a flask out of his jacket pocket, took a swig, and offered it to Sara.

"No tree," she said, taking a sip. "No bear."

"What, never?"

"Which part, the tree or the bear?"

"Why do I get the feeling the answer's the same either way?"

Sara grinned, shrugged. "You know the deal, Dean."

"Yeah, but... You mean never? You've never done the whole family Christmas thing?" He'd known the Lucians were odd, but damn.

"Nah. Gran wasn't big on the family side, just the religious, and Mum was never really around. I normally get a Christmas dinner courtesy of Will and Adrian, though. Why?" she asked, suddenly curious. "What'd you do?"

"Stolen plastic tree, newspaper wrapped presents, dinner in the best diner in whatever town we were in. Not much but..."

"Sounds nice," Sara said, almost wistfully.

"Yeah, it was. Dad used to be pretty good about Christmas. I remember this one time, Sammy must've only been nine or so, and Dad got tickets to some Christmas show. Just some cheap, amateur thing, you know, but Sammy just couldn't look away. I swear, the kid stretched his eyes open so wide," he trailed off, chuckling.

"Explains those big eyes."

"Yeah. What about you? There must be some Christmas related tale in your twisted history," he added when Sara just shrugged again.

"Well, my first year of school, my teacher sits us all down and tells us to write our letters to Father Christmas. I had no idea what she was talking about and she explained the whole deal to me and I went home and told my gran."

"Bad idea?"

"Uh, she told me that whole story was born out of a village which was plagued by a winter spirit, who would visit each home in turn on this one specific night. If the home managed to mollify it with ritual goodies, the kids would get presents. If they didn't, the kids were eaten. It's where the whole mince pie and glass of sherry thing comes from, apparently."

"You're kidding." Dean took the flask from Sara. "What you'd do?"

"Sat up the whole night with a water pistol full of holy water. Gran thought it showed good spirit."

"So no tree, no cuddly toy, but a ready supply of holy water?"

"Pretty much. What is it with you and the bear thing anyway?"

"_Everyone _has a teddy bear or something when they're a kid."

"Did you?"

"Yeah. It was called Jeremy. And Sammy had one called Ben."

Sara was staring at him. "Jeremy?"

"What's wrong with Jeremy?"

"Uh, nothing, but..." She grinned, shaking her head. "You're so unpredictable, you know that?"

"Predictable is boring, Sara. Come on, I guess we should get this over with."

They both dropped back into the pit and picked up their shovels once again.

"Hey, Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"How's that poem go?"

She smiled, wiping hair away from her face with an earth-stained hand. "Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in the hope that St Nicholas soon would be there..."

xxx

Black Earth, Wisconsin,

25th December

It had been a seriously good meal, Dean had to admit. Who would've thought that Will Atwood would be such a good cook? Dean didn't know the Atwood brothers that well, they were more Sara's friends than his, but they'd easily included him in their invitation. Or maybe Sara had just brought him along on her own steam, whatever. Dean got good food either way and so he wasn't about to complain. Not even though he hadn't heard a damn thing from his father all fricking day, although the package Sara had produced from Stanford had helped a lot. His little brother still had weird taste in T-shirts, but Dean had always been told that it was the thought that counted and he hadn't expected Sammy to think of him at all.

"Hey, Dean, can you move yet?" Adrian said, sticking his head out of the kitchen.

"For an Armageddon. Or maybe for more food. Why?"

"Sara's five minutes of brooding are up and I want pudding. Go fetch her back in, would you?"

Dean nodded, levering himself up from the sofa. "Adrian?"

"Yeah?"

"What would've happened to Sara if her mom had died years ago, when Sara was still a kid?"

"Me and Will would've taken care of her, Dean. Amelia made me Sara's legal guardian years ago."

"How long ago?"

"Less that a year after her grandmother snuffed it. Why?"

"No reason. Where's our little exorcist, then?"

"Porch."

"Cool."

The Atwoods' home was pretty isolated, all the better to avoid any awkward questions from the neighbours. Also, all Hunters were antisocial bastards. Same apparently went for exorcists. But either way, the porch had an awesome view of green woodland and a nearby stream. Nice, calm, peaceful. Sometimes Dean understood why the Atwoods had been so determined to have a permanent home.

Sara was sitting on the porch, chin in her hands, but she looked round when Dean let the screen door thud shut behind him.

"Good Christmas?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

"Yeah, actually. You?"

"Awesome food."

She laughed. "Simple minds, simple pleasures?"

"Yeah, something like that." Dean paused, one hand touching the small package in his pocket. He'd been waiting for the right moment all day. Oh, well, here went nothing. "I got you something."

"You already gave me my present."

He passed the badly wrapped parcel over. "This is more... frivolous."

Sara took it cautiously. It was about the size of her two hands. "It's not going to explode or anything, right?" But her fingers were already sliding under the tape, peeling back the paper to reveal...

"You got me a toy rabbit?" Sara said softly, holding it up. Tiny feet and hands, stitches for eyes, ears almost longer than the body. "Whoa."

"It's not quite a bear," Dean said awkwardly. The rabbit had been the closest thing the gas station had had to a teddy bear. "But I figured..." He shrugged. "You know, you should name it."

"Azi," she said.

"Azi?"

"Aziraphale." At Dean's raised eyebrows, Sara sighed. "Dude, if you want us to continue to get along, you really have to start reading Terry Pratchett." She slipped the rabbit into her jacket pocket, leaving the head poking out. "Perfect fit. Thanks."

Dean grinned. "Come on. I want some of that cake."

xxx  
Reviews are loved, cherished and will be sent to a good home. I'm hoping to get the next story up in a week or so, but the end of term is rapidly approaching and Real Life has reared its ugly head. Thanks for reading!


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